The Box
by Pocus
Summary: John Sheppard takes a look into his past.


Author's Note: I don't own these characters (although I do dream about owning him) I just like to expand on the great characters we were given.  
I wrote this after a rough week and a death in my family. I wasn't that close to my Aunt but I do have fond memories of her.

The wooden box was old and worn. The color had faded from a shiny walnut to a dull, dark brown. The edges were worn smooth and scratch marks marred the once fine surface. There was a keyhole on the front, but the key had long since broken. It wasn't very big. He could balance it on his knees, as he often did. What he didn't do often was open it. There had to be a need to do that. The contents weren't precious to anyone but the one who had put them in the box. Sometimes it hurt too much to see inside and remember. Other times he needed to look through those memories and bring back what had been.

It was John's first night back in his quarters after yet another infirmary stay. He was glad to be back in his comfort zone, surrounded by his personal things. Anytime spent in the infirmary was stressful beyond the reason for being there. He was always impatient to be released from the commotion and the noise of the ward and into the peace of his own space. When he was allowed to stay in his quarters during convalescence, he looked forward to his time off and seemed to recuperate more quickly.

His current ill health was due to a very mundane reason –Appendicitis. Of all the things he had faced in the Pegasus Galaxy, he never thought his own body would betray him in the middle of a mission.

He had known he was not feeling top notch when he was waiting with his team for the 'Gate to be dialed, but decided he wasn't feeling bad enough to make it worth canceling the meeting with the Alarans. He had high hopes that a mutually beneficial relationship was in the works. Atlantis would be offering medical supplies and, of all things, cupcakes. In return, they would be allowed to learn the secrets of a new fighting style that had Ronon practically drooling. This specific style of fighting had traditionally only been taught to certain Alarans who were deemed worthy to fight in their Army. With the recent wars in the galaxy and an outbreak of deadly infections, the Alaran people had been hard hit and in danger of losing most of their soldiers. They had come to the conclusion that the residents of the City of the Ancestors were worthy of learning their style. It would be an Alliance beneficial to all.

The team had been in the middle of watching a tiny woman, smaller than Teyla; take down a man who towered over Ronon, when Sheppard had felt the first stabbing pain in his side. He had been feeling progressively more uncomfortable since stepping out onto the fighting field, but had put it down to the hot sun and some very strange vegetables they had sampled at lunch. For the past few hours he had been wiping beads of perspiration off his forehead but now rivulets of sweat were pouring down his face. When the pain hit, it doubled him over, causing him to hang onto the half-wall in front of them with his left hand while his right one clutched his side. A small grunt of pain escaped his lips, causing Teyla to glance over at him. She obviously didn't like what she saw. Quietly tapping Ronon on the shoulder, she stepped closer to her team leader, concern written in her eyes.

Reaching him, she asked, "Colonel, are you unwell?" even though she clearly knew the answer. In response to her question, Sheppard began to crumple slowly to the ground, letting out an even louder groan as another, stronger wave of pain seared through him.

After that, things moved at a blurry pace for John. He vaguely remembers strong hands grabbing him around the shoulders as he almost face planted into the ground. There was lots of yelling and frantic activity, but what he remembers most clearly was pain.

The trip back to the gate was indistinct. Ronon had to carry him because he couldn't manage to maintain an upright position, even with support from his friends. His body only wanted to curl around itself.

Once through the 'Gate, he was quickly put on a stretcher and rushed through the halls to the infirmary where the medical staff was making preparations to handle whatever mysterious ailment had brought down their military leader.

Sheppard's next observation was the smell of antiseptic and the sound of snoring. Feeling as if a bag of wet sand had been poured over him and his tongue had been wrapped in a cotton sock, he slowly forced his eyelids apart, trying to focus on his surroundings. He noticed the lighting was muted and so it was a bit easier to try to get his eyes to do their job properly. Turning his head towards the sound of snoring, he could make out Rodney sleeping on a bed nearby, laptop set on the table beside him and shoes on the floor beneath the bed.

"'Bout time you woke up," rumbled from the bottom of the bed. Lifting and turning his head slightly, he saw Ronon slouched in a chair at the foot of the bed using a knife to peel an apple. "McKay's been pitching a fit and driving Keller crazy wondering when you were gonna open your eyes."

John dropped his back onto the pillow, all energy drained from the movement. "Well, Rodney's got to work on his patience" was his mumbled reply. He was asleep again in moments.

The week spent in the infirmary after his appendectomy had been long and drawn out. There were the random temperature checks, regular bandage and incision cleanings, miscellaneous tests to make sure all infections were gone and no new ones were lurking to cause problems and various other intrusions into his space. Sheppard's team stayed close by to make sure he wasn't bored when the nursing staff was busy with other medical things. They brought meals and treats in when he was ready to eat again. Movies and board games were always at hand. There was always someone around to keep him company and keep him in touch with the latest gossip and news.

It was the fact that there was always someone around that was part of the problem of being there. John Sheppard is a very private person. He needs his time alone to decompress, to mentally organize his thoughts, to release pressure in private and to just be himself with no guards up. He does love his new found "family" in Atlantis and would do anything to keep them safe, but that doesn't mean that he wants them to always be with him. It is hard to completely relax when there is always someone stopping by to make sure you get your next dose of meds or to "cheer up the invalid".

To keep his spirit up, he imagines those first steps into his quarters, hearing the door slide shut behind him, leaving him alone and separate from the rest of the expedition. Familiar sensations surround him; the warm vanilla smell of his candles, the ticking of his alarm clock, the Evel Kneivel picture in its place on his nightstand. It is usually the first time he is able to truly take a deep breath and feel like he is on the road to recovery.

Some of the returns to his place weren't always alone. Some of his illnesses or injuries required a team member to accompany him and help him get settled in; his chance at privacy, delayed by the necessity of assistance. He regretted the delay in being left alone, but he appreciated the care and concern his friends showed him. They had his best interests at heart and he could never fault them for that.

This was luckily not one of those times that required extra attention. Dr. Keller sent him on his way with nothing more than strict orders to take it easy. He had left the infirmary with Rodney in tow and headed to the mess hall. He really wanted to eat at a table and not in bed. After lunch, Sheppard took some time to walk around the halls of his city with Ronon. He checked in at the Control Room then went to find Major Lorne to see if there was anything that needed his immediate attention. After being assured that Atlantis was safe and secure for the time being, he headed back to his quarters. He let Ronon know that he was fine, just a bit tired and wanted to take a nap.

All was quiet in his world. Stepping into his quarters was just as relaxing as he had imagined. The quiet "shush" of the door had allowed the knot in his back to loosen. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked around to see that everything was just as he had left it. Walking to his bed and dropping down on it, he realized that his excuse of needing a nap wasn't just a story. He was exhausted. Leaning down, his shoelaces were quickly and efficiently undone and the boots landed a few feet away. Next chore was to fluff the pillows in just the right way, then very gently lay down, a soft groan of comfort quietly escaping his lips. No beeping machines or hushed voices broke the silence. Only the ticking of his favorite clock intruded. That was the sound that lulled him to a very restful sleep.

He enjoyed his nap without interruption, dreaming about flying. When he woke, he took a long, hot shower, letting the water run down his body and wash away the remaining stress of the past week. After toweling himself dry, he dressed in his most comfortable sweats and his favorite black t shirt with the panda face on it. Looking down at his feet, he decided to leave them bare. Not wearing shoes was a luxury he rarely let himself indulge in. He never knew when an emergency would complicate his life and taking the time to put on shoes might just result in not being where he needed to be at exactly the right moment to prevent further problems.

Teyla dropped by with a dinner tray for him. She seemed to instinctively know that he would like to spend his first evening of freedom on his own. She let him know that she had plans to keep the other two members of their team occupied for the evening. Rodney had heard a rumor of an all night showing of the latest season of Dr. Who on DVD; and Ronon wanted to try some of the new moves from the Alaran fighters. With a smile and head touch, she was off to set up the DVD player and change into her sparring clothes.

As the door closed behind her, John breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't been looking forward to coming up with lame excuses to not hang out with his friends. He should have known Teyla would anticipate his need and act on his behalf.

Looking around his room, he wondered how he would like to spend his evening. He hadn't actually believed that he would have the time alone. There was a stack of Comic books laying on his nightstand that he hadn't had the time to catch up on. His guitar was set up in the corner and he couldn't remember the last time he had picked it up. The laptop was sitting on the desk, but he quickly disregarded catching up on mission reports. He would have plenty of time to do that in the next few days and Lorne had done a great job at keeping him informed this past week. No need to work on his first night alone.

The city was visible through his windows and he stepped over to the closest one to get a better look. It was beautiful here at night. The lights were reflecting off the water and the 3 visible moons were a marvel to behold.

Looking out the window gave him the answer to what he would do this night. Turning back to his room he mentally lowered the lighting to a low level. Turning to his desk, he switched on his MP3 player and speakers. Nickelback blared into the quiet and he quickly flipped to something quieter. The unusual pairing of Robert Plant and Allison Kraus flowed into the space. Sighing, he headed over to his bed and reached under it to pull out a worn, wooden box. He hadn't opened The Box in many years. It had been left at his Father's place when he moved his things after the divorce. During the trip back to Earth for his Father's funeral, he had retrieved it from its place in storage. Dave had asked him what he wanted done with the things he had left. None of it was important so he said to donate it somewhere, but The Box came back to Atlantis with John.

John sat down on the bed and balanced the box on his bent knees. His fingers traced a long scratch mark that ran along the top. He remembered how that one happened. How he had slammed Dave against the wall because he had caught him trying to pry open the box with a screwdriver. John had never been that mad at Dave before. In fact the only other time he had felt anything close to that rage at his brother was at his Father's funeral when Dave thought he was only there for the money.

His eyes wandered to the lock. He missed the key that had belonged to it. It was a neat, old fashioned key with a large handle and 3 finger looking things to go in the lock. John had been devastated when the middle prong had broken. Now it would open at a touch. He had made sure to keep it well hidden after the key broke.

Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall, John could see in his mind's eye his Mother's face as she handed him this treasure. Her green eyes had been bright with happiness because she could share something so special with him. It had been hers when she was young and she wanted her son to have it. She knew how deeply he held his privacy and how he just wanted to keep some things to himself. He had a nosy brother who felt that what John had was his. Giving him the box showed him that she understood his need and, in turn, understood him.

Surprising himself, John felt one small tear roll down his cheek. He quickly opened his eyes and wiped the offending moisture away, self-consciously looking around. He hadn't cried in years. Why today?

Glancing guiltily at the calendar, he knew why his emotions were raw. Today was her birthday.

The box sat silently, daring him to open it. Grabbing it in both hands, John sat up straighter and crossed his legs in front of him. He rested the box on the bed in front of his feet. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he put his hands on the lid. If he didn't open it tonight, he didn't know if he ever would again.

He opened his eyes slowly as his hands, of their own accord, started to lift the lid.

The first thing that caught his eye was a bumpy envelope. He picked it up and looked inside it. Inside was his set of braces. He smiled at the memory of getting them off. His Mom had taken him straight to the store and gotten him the biggest package of grape bubble gum they could find. Between the two of them, they had chewed the whole pack on the way home. He had kept that huge wad of gum in his mouth until dinner time when she put a plate of corn on the cob on the table, just for him. Dave hated eating food with his fingers. He always made her cut the corn off for him. John enjoyed every last ear of it and then spent the rest of the evening snacking away on things he hadn't been allowed to have in the past two years.

The memory of his Mom stretched out on the carpet by the fireplace and tossing popcorn at him while reading Fellowship of the Ring out loud brought a bigger grin to John's face. He and his Mom had spent lots of time reading in front of the fire. In The Box was a Hershey bar wrapper that she had used as a bookmark. She enjoyed making s'mores for them to enjoy. She loved her chocolate!

Carefully he put the wrapper and the envelope in the circle of his legs and reached for another item. It happened to be a dog collar. It was purple and barely fit around his fingers. His first dog had worn this when he was just a puppy. His Mother had picked him up from the pound and brought him to John when he was home with a broken leg after a horseback riding accident. She knew he couldn't stand being cooped up and needed something to do. What could be better than a puppy? Together they named him Clancy. He kept John busy training him until the cast came off. It was just at that same time that Clancy needed a bigger collar. He and Clancy made many great memories together. John was extremely sad to say Goodbye to him at the ripe old age of 14.

Memories flooded over him as he held the collar. He recalled snowball fights in the stable yard and tug of war over socks, the smell of wet dog as he was run down getting home from school, using a soft fur belly as a pillow while lying by the fireplace.

Damn, he missed that dog!

He found it hard to put the collar down and look back into The Box. Instead he hooked it around his wrist, like a bracelet and then glanced back inside for another memory.

He found his baby bracelet from his hospital stay at birth. There was also a flyer for the Evel Knievel show he had gone to and gotten his picture taken. Mom had already been sick then, but she insisted on staying at the show the whole day and waiting to get his picture taken with his hero. It was one of the last trips they had taken together.

Under the flyer was a Mickey Mouse watch that she had given him on his 7th birthday. It was really cool because his head moved and at 11 O'Clock he looked like he was picking his nose. All the kids at school thought it was great.

He was down to the last two things in the box. They were the hardest things to look at. They represented the beginning and the end of his time with his Mother.

There was a picture of her holding him as a newborn. She looked so young and pretty, with her long black hair tumbling around her waist. She was standing at the entryway to their house and looking down at her son with a look of wonderment. She was tracing his jaw line with one finger while he was held tightly to her heart with the other arm.

Under the picture was a long, black string. It was from the sweater she wore constantly in the last months of her life. She was having trouble keeping warm and John had found a long, woolen sweater for her to wear. He hadn't wanted a black one, but she had insisted. She said she didn't want to see strands of her hair falling out. The black would hide it.

A habit she developed was to pull at the bottom of the sweater. John figured out it was when the pain became too much. By the time of her passing, the bottom edge of the sweater was all scraggly. John had taken some of the strings to keep because they were the last things she had touched. He put them in The Box for safe keeping, but when he had to leave it behind; he took some of those strings out and made a bracelet for himself.

John glanced down at all the things, the memories, lying on his bed. He felt a huge lump form in his throat. Looking at the picture in his hand, he almost let flow the tears that were threatening.

Clearing his throat, he stood up and walked back to the window. Another memory filled his mind. It was the one that had reminded him of The Box. It was of his Mother on her last night of life. She wanted to be near a window so she could see the stars. John was next to her on her bed. She pulled him close to her and told him to look up and see the beauty there. She whispered to him that she would always be there for him. He only had to look up and see the twinkling stars. They fell asleep together, but John woke up alone.

In a galaxy far away from those stars, John looked up and whispered "Happy Birthday Mom."

He was glad he had opened The Box. It had been much too long since he had looked back into his past with anything but regret or anger. The memories inside of his box were, for the most part, good ones.

Heading back to the things on his bed, he carefully, but quickly returned them to their places. He left the collar on his wrist with his black bracelet. Since he wasn't on active duty for a few more days, he wanted to keep it on. It would give him an excuse to open The Box to put it away.

Picking up the box, he looked around to see where to put it. Part of him wanted to slide it back under his bed, but his room was his own space. There wasn't anyone to touch it. Besides, if someone like Teyla or Ronon or even Rodney, asked about it, he might not be so reluctant to share with them.

There was a spot right next to his Evel Kneivel picture that would be perfect for it. He placed it there and stepped back. It felt right.

John grabbed some socks and some shoes and put them on. He snagged a six pack of beer out of his little refrigerator and light jacket to toss on if he needed it.

After his trip through the past, he wanted to live in the present. Who knows how long his "family" will be together this time. He wanted to enjoy as much time with them as he could now. He might just have to start another box for good memories from this galaxy.


End file.
